


Badventure

by Imagine_Darksiders



Category: Darksiders (Video Games)
Genre: Berrarris is a nervous wreck, Berrarris is from The Abomination Vault, Brief Mention of Blood, F/M, Karn is a showoff, everyone is protective of each other, jailer - Freeform, lots of screaming, the human is ballsy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-26
Updated: 2018-04-26
Packaged: 2019-04-28 09:29:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14446329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imagine_Darksiders/pseuds/Imagine_Darksiders
Summary: On a quest to retrieve one of Thane's lost weapons, you, Karn and Berrarris have to go toe to toe with a jailer. In the end, you show the two makers that even a tiny human can be a hero.





	Badventure

“You realise that if the horseman finds out we brought you here, he’ll kill us, don’t you?”

A timid voice breaks the silence that’s fallen over you and your pair of otherworldly companions. The observation comes from the younger of the two; a monstrously large but soft-spoken giant of a man, dressed in a loose, leathery vest and a pair of stitched, black trousers, made from some strange animal’s hide. His flushed skin, made only redder by the light of The Scar’s constantly flowing lava, is marred with small burns, nicks and cuts, specifically around soot-stained, muscular arms. The arms of a true craftsman.

You can feel his looming presence behind you as you gaze curiously around the cavernous, stone chamber. His shadow stretches across the room, engulfing you in half-darkness with how close he’s standing. Craning your neck up and over your shoulder, you meet a pair strikingly silver eyes that twinkle down at you worriedly from beneath a curl of golden hair. 

“Berrarris,” you smile reassuringly, “Death’s not going to kill us, he’s not even _in_ the Forge Lands for another two days, so he won’t find out we were ever _here_.”

The man, a Maker, looks unconvinced. “Won’t kill _you_ , maybe,” he mutters.

“Look, The Keeper agreed to let you have this time off to relax. So…. _relax_.” Even though he must have towered over you by at least fifteen feet, the maker manages to appear quite small when he ducks his head shyly and taps his forefingers together.

“I-I’m trying, really I am!”, he pleads, “But this isn’t exactly a relaxing environment….” Berrarris allows his eyes to linger suspiciously on a long-dead construct that lays in the nearest corner of the room. “I mean, what if something _bad_ happens to you?” he continues, “I know you said that Death and you cleared this place, but that was a while ago now. Something could have moved back in!” He shuffles his feet nervously and shifts even closer to you, whispering conspiratorially, “I don’t know if you’d noticed, but I’m not a warrior, I’m a _craftsman_. An apprentice! Not like _him_.” Berrarris nods towards the second maker that’s accompanying you.

This one is older, only by a century or so, as Berrarris puts it. He’s also bulkier, far more muscular than the blonde and his skin is littered with long, pale scars rather than forge-burns. A hammer that's taller than he is, rests on his shoulder as he stands with his back to you with one hand on his hip and the toe of his boot scuffing against the dead construct’s leg. His left ear twitches attentively and he turns his bald head in your direction, flashing you a wink. “Bah, you worry too much,” he scoffs, “just swing that big old axe o’ yours, don’t hit Y/n with it and you’ll be _fine_!”

“Karn, you leave that poor custodian alone,” you scold, marching up to him and giving his calf a shove to get him walking. He rolls his eyes but the grin remains on his face as he saunters over to the far end of the room with you in tow.

Berrarris trots after you, whistling when you all come upon an enormous fissure in the stone floor. “Now _that’s_ a hole….”

You and Karn nod in quiet agreement, peering into the deep crevice to see a river of lava flowing far down in it’s depths. “Karn’s right, Berry,” you return to the previous conversation, teetering close to the edge to see if you can find a way across, “We’re going to be fine, nothing bad’s happened yet.”

“I-I know,” he stammers as he bends down to nudge you away from the ledge with the back of his fingers, “S’just that when Thane asked us to fetch this old blade of his, he also told us to look after you. B-but I’m not so sure that I’m qualified to-”

“Hang on,” you interrupt, “I seem to remember Thane telling _me_ specifically to look after the two of _you_.”

The older maker guffaws suddenly at the notion whilst Berrarris grimaces. With a good-natured punch to Karn’s boot, you look up at the younger maker and then to the gap, then back again.

“Hmmm. Hey, Goldilocks?” you call. The very tips of Berrarris’s ears flush a deep crimson, clashing starkly with his bouncy, golden hair. For some reason, the mere fact that you’d deigned to give him a nickname fills the maker with a sense of belonging so strong that it often threatens to overwhelm him. He rests an arm on one of his knees and stares at you expectantly.

“I need you to toss me.”

Immediately, he recoils, eyebrows shooting skyward. “Wha-!? I beg your pardon?” he exclaims. Meanwhile, Karn looks down at you, seeming mildly offended.

“Oi, how come _I_ don’t get to chuck you?”

“You threw me last time.”

Berrarris pales. “ _Last time!_?”

You turn to the him and wave a hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. Now, we need to get across this gap to the other side, or we can kiss Thane’s sword goodbye and just go back to the forge, empty-handed and ashamed.”

He pauses, mulling it over. “That doesn’t sound like such a bad plan.”

“Berrarris!” you scold, “It’s a _terrible_ plan.”

“Not if it means _you’re_ safe!” he argues, pleadingly.

Karn sighs at the exchange. Already, he can feel his hands and heart grow itchy with restlessness. So, eager to get moving again, he stoops down abruptly and plucks you from your spot at Berrarris’s feet. The other maker squawks in alarm and reaches after you but Karn has already lowered his hand, ready to pitch you through the air.

Wriggling until you’re the right way around, you grumble, “Um, warn me next time?” Then, more chipper, “Okay, ready?”

“HA, are _you_?” Karn laughs.

Without another word, he tenses his arm, lines up the shot with his other hand and then….you’re flying.

For such a short trip across a hole in the ground, you certainly notice a lot.

The heat from the lava down below that licks up your legs like the touch of zealous lover. The rush of adrenaline that surges through you, pulling a delighted cry from your lips. The shouts of alarm from both Berrarris and Karn and the bone-shaking roar of something enormous and _definitely_ dangerous.

You land on the other side of the fissure and fall into a forward roll on impact before springing to your feet and whirling about. A gasp shoots up your throat when you see what’s just appeared on your boys’ side of the chasm.

“ _Karn_! _Berrarris_!” 

A jailer has appeared from nowhere and is currently squeezing itself through a broken doorway in the side of the vast chamber. The grotesque jaw stretches open wide, spittle flying every which way when it catches sight of the two makers and it bellows again, finally freeing itself from the confines of the too-small doorway and stumbles forwards into the room.

Berrarris backs towards the edge of the fissure, glancing back at you. Even at this distance, you can see him trembling as he grips the handle of his axe tightly. Karn however, puffs out his chest and laughs loudly as he brandishes his hammer. “At last! A _real_ challenge! Y/n, watch this!”

“Karn! For goodness sake, keep your distance!” you shout warningly, “that thing’s faster than it looks!” Frantically, you whip your head around, searching until, at last, your gaze lands on what you’re looking for.

A long, metal lever stands unassumingly in a nook beside the door. “Hold on guys, I’m coming!”

You race to the lever and grab a hold of the cool metal and start to tug it to the right. When Death had done this in the past, he’d always made it look so effortless. He’d pull it and a bridge would rise up from the lava, providing you with safe route back across the chasm. Unfortunately, it’s harder to budge than it looks.

Berrarris calls to you, the visceral horror in his voice and the rattling of the jailer’s cage is enough to spur you onwards. Pulling back for a second, you throw yourself at the lever, managing to shift it even more to the right. Repeatedly, you slam your shoulder into it, punctuating each hit with a wet cry of frustration.

After a deafening screech of protest, it finally gives.

The moment the lever slots into place, you start to feel a rumbling reverberate throughout the entire chamber and you dash over to the fissure again, fumblingly pulling your pistol from its holster at your hip. With shaking hands, you thrust six bullets into each chamber whilst the bridge climbs upwards and out from the lava below. As soon as the rising stone is close enough, you leap down onto the still-scalding surface and start to sprint across, shouting to the makers, “Karn! Berrarris! Get across the bridge-”

A sickening crack greets your ears when you reach the other side.

You can only stare in horror as Karn’s foot catches on a patch of loose stone chipping, causing him to slip and fall to his knees instead of finishing the strafe that would have taken him clear of the jailor’s swinging fist. It's fat, stubby appendage connects viscously with the side of Karn’s head and sends him hurtling sideways into a nearby wall. The maker moans once, then slides down it in a heap, unmoving.

“ _ **N O**_!” you shriek, levelling your pistol at the jailer. For the first time, you find yourself actually grateful that you and Death had come across these creatures before. The horseman had thankfully taken great pains to ensure that you knew how to deal with them. Namely, he’d shown you where the weak spots are.

The behemoth trundles towards your fallen friend.

You _have_ to get its attention.

You have to make it _mad_.

“Get the **HELL** away from him!” you scream shakily.

Aiming your pistol at one of the yellow, pus-filled sores on its shoulder, you take a steadying breath and fire.

The bullet, though small and unenchanted, unlike Death’s, does the damage you need it to.

The shriek of pain that rips out of the jailer makes your teeth hurt with its shrillness. It lets out another scream of outrage before swinging its whole body around to face the new attacker. When it catches sight of a tiny but furious human on the ground below, the sores turn from a grotesque, putrid yellow to an angry, poisonous red.

“Berrarris, get Karn and get across that bridge!” you order firmly whilst staring down the jailer that’s gearing up for a charge.

The maker had already made his way over to his friend but stops and stares in fright as the jailer begins to lumber towards _you_ instead, faster than before.

“B-but, you-”

“WOULD YOU JUST DO AS YOU’RE _DAMN_ WELL TOLD!” you interrupt fiercely, making him flinch at the amount of fury in your tone. But you don’t have the time to stick around and catch the look of hurt that flashes across his handsome features.

The jailer’s hand is almost upon you, so close now that you can smell the rotting flesh and rancid breath coming from the beast.

Yelping, you roll under the wayward fist, taking yourself safely around the giant’s bulky side and, just as swiftly, you raise to your feet with a scream and make a mad dash for the opposite wall.

Sending a quick glance behind you, a flicker of relief sparks in your gut when you see Berrarris has Karn’s arm slung around his shoulders and he's currently heaving him over the bridge.

Your relief is short-lived though when a huge cage crashes into the ground mere inches behind your feet.

“MOTHER SHITTING BASTARD!” you cry incoherently as you tilt forwards and speed ahead of the cage that the jailer is now scraping along the floor loudly in your wake. He’s attempting to mow you down.

Your continuous scream reaches its peak when you suddenly dodge to the side, narrowly avoiding being flattened like a human-shaped pancake. You run in a wide, sweeping arc to stay just out of the monster’s reach before you circle back around to face the bridge.

Breathing hard and fast, you ignore the strain in your legs to yell to Berrarris, who’s made it to the other side. “When I say, pull that lever!” He gives a shaky nod of understanding and sets Karn against the doorway tentatively. The jailer behind you is gaining, whereas  _you_ are tiring.

‘ _I could have sworn the room wasn’t this long when we first got here_ ,’ you gripe to yourself, at last reaching the stone bridge with the monster hot on your heels. ‘ _This is going to be close_.’

A hot gust of foul breath hits the back of your neck and sends a disgusted shiver up your spine. Taking a deep breath, you summon all of your courage and cry, “NOW!”

Berrarris hesitates. “B-but, you’re still too far! You’ll never make-”

“I SAID **NOW**!”

The maker closes his eyes tightly, grips the lever in his huge hands and pulls.

The effect is immediate. The bridge suddenly starts to descend back into the lava from whence it came, faster than you’d anticipated. It takes the jailer _and_ you with it. Gathering any ounce of strength you have left in your body, you brace your legs against the bridge and jump.

The jailer roars, enraged at your duplicity as it sinks with the bridge, now too low for any hope of escape.

You though, are actually rather impressed with yourself for the amount of distance you’d managed to cover with that single leap. But it’s with a slow, awful realisation as you soar through the air towards the side of the chasm that the truth dawns on you.

Berrarris had been right.

You’d been too far away when he pulled the lever.

You're not going to make it.

The youngest maker’s horrified face rises out of view when you suddenly plummet down after the bridge and the jailer. Your heart, in contrast, skyrockets. But in spite of your fear, one thought rings clear and calm through your mind. ‘ _I’m sorry Death…_ ’

The gut wrenching sensation of falling is violently jarred to a halt when something large catches the scruff of your shirt and it pulls taut against your neck, nearly choking you in the process.

From above, you hear a sigh of relief, so you look up and see a hand gently hoisting you out of the chasm towards a concerned but friendly face.

“Nice catch, Berry,” you wheeze. The maker smiles and lifts you clear of the hole then sets you down next to Karn, gently. Instantly, your legs buckle beneath you, exhausted and shaken from yet another close call. He helps you stand and stumble over to your fallen comrade and watches grimly as you take a hold of his thick, leather belt, heaving yourself up onto his chest and scrambling up the still maker until you reach his face. Tentatively and with tears prickling behind your eyes, you stroke a hand over your friend’s temple, wincing when you pull it away and find it smeared with blood.

Berrarris drops to a knee, one hand resting on Karn’s chest behind you and the other takes up the older maker’s gloved hand, giving it a squeeze.

“Is…is he?…” The giant trails off.

Swallowing thickly, you shake your head and give the maker a half-smile. “No. No, I can feel him breathing.”

Indeed, the maker’s chest beneath you rises and falls slowly, but steady and strong. Berrarris releases a noisy exhale.

In lieu of anything better to use, you wet a shirt sleeve with your tongue and begin to wipe the blood from Karn’s head. "Big dumb idiot," you chuckle wetly to cover the worry in your voice, "Always trying to play the hero."

Silence once again descends upon the chamber, broken only by the rumblings of ancient, underground machinery and the sound of you trying to get your breathing back under control. “Berrarris?” you murmur quietly after the quiet gets a little too unbearable. Hearing him shift behind you prompts you to carry on. “I’m sorry about before, big guy. I didn’t mean to snap at you, I was just afraid. But you were right…” Here, you look back at the maker to find that his immense face has crept up close behind you. Grinning, you spin around fully to face him. “If it weren’t for _you_ just now, I’d be cooked. Literally! So, thank you.”

The maker’s ears flatten suddenly against the sides of his head at the praise and he turns the same, deep crimson that he had when you first came to the Scar. Endeared, you kneel up and place your hands on his cheeks. Berrarris watches, wide-eyed and wary as you lean forwards to place a soft, chaste kiss on the space between his bushy, blonde eyebrows.

Before you can see his response, there’s a moan and the body beneath you starts to move.

“Karn!” you exclaim, swivelling back around and staring anxiously into his face. The maker’s eyes slowly begin to flicker open, squinting shut tightly again after he blinks up into the bright sunlight filtering through cracks in the ceiling.

“Ugggggh,” he groans, “What happ-” He’s cut off when you unexpectedly cry out happily and drape your entire body over his face. Pressing yourself closer, you huff at the feeling of his mouth stretching into a toothy grin against your stomach.

“So, we won?” he asks with a chuckle.

Resting your hands against his thick neck, you push up from his face to level a stern glare down at him. “Yeah, we won. _Barely_. Don’t you ever do that to me again, Karn.”

The maker looks smug as he beams innocently up into your eyes. “Were you worried about me,Y/n?”

“Of _course_ I was, idiot.” You swat at his nose grumpily. “You’re the cause of like, 70% of my stress intake.” His smile only grows until he looks over your shoulder and catches sight of Berrarris behind you.

“Maker’s beard, Berrarris! What happened to _you_!?”

You follow Karn’s gaze and almost laugh aloud at the look on the younger maker’s face. His entire head, even his shoulders and neck have turned beet red and his silver eyes have grown wide, staring at nothing in particular with complete wonder. There’s also a tiny, blissful smile tugging at his lips.

“Oh, _him_ ,” you laugh, “he’ll be fine, give it a minute.”

You look back down at Karn and bite your lip. “Seriously though, what did I _tell_ you about keeping your distance from that thing?”

At least the foolhardy maker has the decency to glance away bashfully. "Yeah, yeah. I know..."  When he looks back up at you, the mischief in his eyes has given way to concern. “Are _you_ alright?” he whispers hesitantly, a large hand lifting to brush your shoulder, earning a hiss of pain. Karn’s brow furrows.

“I’ll be fine,” you shrug him off and sit back on your heels. “I’ll just be a bit bruised from smacking into that lever so much.” You don’t mention the bridge, or the fall. But he seems to sense that there’s something else the matter, so he sits up a little further and opens his mouth to ask another question when a quieter, calmer voice hums from behind you.

“Y/n nearly fell…”

Both you and Karn turn to see Berrarris has come back into himself and is twiddling his thumbs nervously without meeting either of your gazes.

“Fell?” Karn asks. “What d'you mean _fell_?” He looks at you for an explanation when Berrarris falls silent.

Sighing, you elaborate, supposing that you really ought to fill him in. “I lured the Jailer onto the bridge, then had Goldilocks here drop it with me and that beastie still on it. I guess I cocked up on judging the distance because I totally undershot the jump to the edge.”

Karn looks highly alarmed but you’re quick to assure him, “But it’s fine! Berrarris caught me and now _I’m_ fine, _you’re_ fine. Everything’s fine!”

They both look unconvinced and share a glance with each other before looking back at you sadly.

It’s the older one who speaks up first. “Maybe we should take you back….” he mutters glumly. Berrarris nods hastily.

“What? One little knock and it’s back to square one? No way!” Indignation flares up inside you at the insinuation that they’d rather go home than carry on.

“Y/n,” Berrarris whines, “you nearly _died_.”

You whirl to face him, “So did Karn.”

“Well, yeah but…” the aforementioned maker looks as unsure of himself as the other one does.

“But _nothing_ ,” you say firmly. “ _I’m_ the one who wanted to come here with you guys, _I’ll_ deal with the consequences. I’m not made of _glass_. Still here, aren’t I? Despite the odds, I’m still here.”

Karn’s eyes find yours again and you smile warmly up at him from your position on his chest. “Come on boys, we just took on a jailer and _lived_! _Without_ a horseman’s help, I might add.”

The bald-headed maker’s grin returns in full. “Hey, you’re right! We did, didn’t we?!” Suddenly, you’re slipping down his stomach when he makes to stand up.

A warm hand is there to catch you once more before you can fall to the hard ground. “Gotcha,” the ever-soft Berrarris smiles upside down from above you. A giggle leaves your throat and you begin to feel reenergised. The maker sets you down and they both move to stand beside you, gazing fondly down at their tiny saviour.

“We can’t give up now. Thane’s counting on us to get his sword back, we _have_ to keep going. We have to prove to the others that we’re not a bunch of ‘Pups,’” you glance pointedly at Karn and he nods. “You wanted to be an adventurer, so come on. Let’s be adventurers!”

Karn is obviously on board if the way he shouts excitedly and runs to the door is anything to go by, wrenching it open to thunder out into the courtyard beyond.

Slowly, you turn to your meeker companion. Berrarris is looking at his feet and scratching behind his ear nervously. You step forward and place a hand over his broad knuckle, stroking down the tendon on the back of it soothingly. He stiffens, then relaxes under your touch.

“Berrarris,” you start, “If _you_ want to go back, you can. But I’m staying here and finishing this.”

It takes a few seconds, but at last the maker sighs softly, then smirks a little. “To be honest, I think I’m safer here with _you_ than out there on my own.” One of the golden plaits falls elegently over his shoulder when he ducks his head and blushes at the admittance.

“Oh, you’re just saying tha-” A hand suddenly appears out of nowhere from behind you and lifts you clear off the ground. You scream in terror until you recognise the dull, brown leather of the glove. “Shit, Karn! Again, _warn_ me next time!”

The cheerful maker plonks you down onto his shoulder. “You and Berrarris have had your ‘moment,’ s’my turn now.”

Berrarris scurries up beside his friends and tosses you a shy grin whilst Karn throws a companionable arm around his shoulder. “A-are you okay, Karn?” he asks, “That jailer knocked you right out. You were gone for a worrying while there..”

The bigger maker brushes off his friend’s concern with a flourish of his meaty hand. “Oh, I’m right as rain,” he boasts, tapping the side of his head, “Alya’s always telling me I got a thick skull.”

Berrarris looks at you with a raised eyebrow when you choke back a giggle. “Right,” he coughs, trying his hardest to be as brave as Karn, “Where to, Y/n?”

Both makers stare at you in anticipation and it suddenly dawns on you that somewhere along the way, despite being a mere human _and_ the smallest in your party, these two hulking giants have come to see you as an unofficial leader of sorts. You can practically _feel_ the responsibility weighing down on top of your head.

“Is this how Death feels all the time?’ you wonder.


End file.
